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Carey was the only person I’d ever confided in about my sexuality. It had never been an issue with him. He didn’t see me any differently than he did Frank or Shelley. We were coworkers and friends. Period.
“Abey, can you handle it?”
And my voice was louder than my daddy’s on this subject. “You know I can.”
“Yeah, I do,” Carey said. “I got faith in you. That’s why I’m offerin’ this to you. So. Again. You want the job or not?”
“I think so?”
“Good. I’m takin’ that as a yes. No backsies. You got one week to prepare while I get ready. I’ll be back and forth sometimes, so it won’t be like you’re on your own, and Frank and Shelley will be here to help you. You know that. I’m also sendin’ you a couple new deputies. Dan is a new hire. He’s a little stiff, but he was military. I’m hopin’ he’ll relax quickly. And Roxanne is an old pro. She started out at the Corner Junction station, and then she moved up to the park. She’s had to deal with all kinds of calls. She knows her shit. Actually, she reminds me a little of you. So you’ll have even more help than we usually do around here. How’s that sound?”
“Good, I guess. But you really think hirin’ another woman will help matters?”
“Just wait till you see her,” he said. “If anybody has a problem once they get an eyeful, they’ll keep it to themselves. I can promise you that.” He snickered and swiped his coffee tumbler off his desk to take a big chug.
“Okay.” I hoped to hell he was right.
I had to hope the people of Wisper could see me as an authority. What if they couldn’t? What if, because I was a woman—who, surprise, was also gay—I’d create more of an opportunity for trouble? I didn’t want to cause anyone trouble. I only wanted to help.
My mama didn’t think I could. She didn’t believe in me. She thought people like me were the problem with the world.
And things had been coming to a head around these parts lately. It seemed small-town Wyoming was catching up with the rest of the world. The townsfolk gossiped like teenage girls behind closed doors about everything under the sun. That was nothing new, but it used to be that nobody spoke out in the open about who was gay or who wasn’t.
Yeah, those days had died. It was all anybody could talk about now, and I didn’t want to be the focus of that gossip. How would that help me in my job?
I was pretty sure it wouldn’t.
And just because they all gossiped about it did not mean they all accepted it. Some did, and some could be more than supportive, but not all.
Which was exactly the mission Devo had tasked herself with—to make every single person in Teton County love gay people—and it was the reason she kept ending up at my station.
Not that I was complaining about it. Quite the opposite, actually, though I’d never tell her that.
And speaking of, I heard someone approaching down the hallway behind me. The sound of Devo’s footsteps had become a familiar and welcome addition to my workdays, and I would never forget the quiet sound of her scoffs.
I could hear her breathing, and the sound sent goosechills all the way down to my toes.
There hadn’t been one single night in the last month when I hadn’t thought about the time Devo and I had made each other come.
Without turning, I asked, “What now, Devo?”
But there’d been plenty of days I wished I could forget, particularly the days she’d stormed in, demanding that I arrest Red Graves, everyone’s favorite local asshole.
This time, she waited outside Carey’s office door, tapping her little foot impatiently, waiting for me, probably so she could complain about Red again.
Memories of her feet in a pair of my socks and her sexy legs resting across my naked body while we ate cold pizza on my couch that night had my body heating up, and I could feel beads of sweat collect at the back of my neck.
Carey lifted his eyebrows and nudged me out his door, then kicked it shut with his boot. Thanks for the help, boss.
My recollection of that night was a red-hot memory in my mind. My hands twitched to reach out and touch Devo the way I had a month ago. It was hard now not to stare at the crotch of her jeans and imagine what was underneath—that smooth, wet, shaved skin…
She narrowed her eyes at me when we were face to face, but I stood more than a head taller, so she had to look up. “For the last time,” she said, “are you gonna do somethin’ about Red Graves or not? He’s up to no good again. How many times do I have to report him?”
Looking at her face and the evocative curve of her full bottom lip was my new favorite thing to do. She was beautiful, but the opportunity to gaze down upon her was usually present ’cause I was about to tell her no or put her in cuffs, which, historically, made her mad, but man, did the indignation make her even sexier! Her deep, earthy brown eyes held nothing back.
“I told you. I can’t do anything until the man breaks a law. You know this. He’s not hurtin’ anybody?—”
Her face flashed with frustration, and she plonked her fists on her hips and cocked her head, giving me a glare that could’ve taken down a grizzly all on its own.
